Painted Strings
by Shiroi Iyasu
Summary: "This small memory starts in a town of snow, on a frigid night where second meetings began to unravel the distant threads between a duty-holding royalty and a wandering hero..." Post-ending. Minor YxE


Takes place after the ending by a handful of years (or a decade, but that seems kinda long). I originally wanted it to just be a "Fight, ignore, guilt, apologise" thing somewhere during the plot, but since I hadn't played the game, I got some of my facts wrong. So, I decided, "To make myself safe, I'll push the setting to the future!"

This is the result, though it strayed off a little... Now it's a 'what if' fic. But what changed, I'm letting the readers find out.

(Edit - Made a few, very minor corrections. You probably won't notice a difference if you're re-reading it.)

* * *

Her fingers were away.

His fingers longed to stay with hers.

The two stood just steps away from each other, their backs facing each other. Whenever you looked at the two like this, sometimes you thought how different they were. He was from the Lower Quarters of the capital, being poor yet street-smart about this world. Those down there would have this common attribute. She was a possible heir to the throne, learned and mannered like a Princess should be. Her immense knowledge was vast, yet it was only of general things.

They were from completely different worlds, from different lives that would seemingly never cross.

The ground beneath them was colored white. It was neither blank and solid nor colorful or bright. A neutral color. When you looked at the two after glancing at the snow, you would find yet another difference. He was dark, often independent in thought and actions. He had done enough, if you probably considered it. While on the other hand, she had no wrongs staining her hands. She was colorful and bright, representing the smiles and cheerful aura around her. She wore colors extracted from a rainbow, and He wore colors belonging to our own shadows.

The snow was cold. The shadows were empty.

Snow was white. Shadows were black.

White was the mixture of all colors together. Black was too a mixture of all colors, simply darker in shade.

He and She weren't cold, and perhaps that was another difference. If you thought hard that is.

Yuri glanced back at the pink-haired Princess, his hands becoming restless. Just one simple argument, and this was the result. Their stubborn personality had heated it to a higher level, and now they were apart. It would mend itself eventually, but someone had to take the first step.

Estelle kept switching her gaze between the blastia on her wrist and the white ground. If she had to explain it, she could only say she was trying to distract herself from thinking of what happened. But perhaps there was another reason to that. As hard as she forced herself to not remember, the memories would flow easily through the barrier like water seeping through your fingers.

Like that strange warmth she felt when they first met. When he had grasped her wrist to 'see' her blastia. Even if it was just for a moment, she could still remember it clearly.

The swordsman clenched his hands, turning completely. The wintery winds flew around them, playing with the petal-cut cloth of her dress. It made them dance, reminding him just vaguely about flowers, the petals flying in the air with the spring breezes. The image fit her, he knew it.

The swordswoman restrained a shudder from the cold. On pure instinct, her right hand rose to her left arm. It grasped that area lightly, the warmth transferring. It quickly spread through her entire limb, but she still felt cold. The bronze metal of the bracelet which her now useless blastia was fixed into did not help her either.

He slowly started walking forward, a grim look on his face. But his eyes betrayed that expression, filled with determination. Each step of his was filled hesitation, but he didn't try thinking about. If Estelle wouldn't start, he would. Then, everything would be alright from there. He hopped that what he thought would be right.

She slowly lifted her right hand away, not thinking about the freezing temperatures once it penetrated through her arm. She gingerly brushed her gloved fingers on the metallic bracelet, feel the cold surge through them and numb her sense of touch there. She wasn't very bothered by it. A sigh had, however, left her lips in a puff of warm air.

She felt a hand on her right shoulder, its warmth spreading quickly through the veins in her body.

He could feel the Princess stiffen as his hand gripped her shoulder lightly. Suppressing a frown, he shook her gently, getting her attention almost instantly. Her head turned to look at him, though the expression he saw was not what he expected. He had thought of her showing this hurt, pained look with a hint of anger showing. But instead, he saw this almost pleading face, as if wanting something that would satisfy some great desire. But soon, it had hid behind a grim expression, looking away towards the crystal white ground.

"...Yes?" she questioned slowly. Honestly, what did he want? After what he had said and done...! But there was still this one part, this tiny hint, that did not feel bothered by his presence. It confused her greatly.

He could feel the bitterness in her voice. Yes, the voice had not betrayed his vision. It was exactly what he expected. He himself stiffened at the cold, uncaring voice, some part of himself voicing disbelief. He was already missing her melodic voice, filled with the happiness of a content family. It was warm. But now, without that warmth, it didn't seem right.

Bitter coldness did not fit the Princess. She had certainly changed...

"I just..." he trailed off. The grip of his hand began to lighten even more.

"...Just what?" she repeated, finally look straight at the man. His face held regret and guilt, but also this strange look of desire. She couldn't place what it was, but he desired something. Her forgiveness?

He stayed quiet for several more minutes, her patience thinning with each minute. It was only her manners and lessons learnt through her sheltered life that kept her standing there while waiting, instead of storming off without a word. Eventually, he shook his head, his hand swiftly returning to his side. The cold instantly froze the warmth in her veins.

"...Nothing."

He left faster than the winds dying around her.

Estelle only watched, like everything had slowed, as the dark speck of his hair disappeared among the white and fading colors around them. The moment time resumed its normal pace, the heavy realisation hit her at once, making her knees give away to meet the snowy ground. More cold. _How lovely_, she thought dryly somewhere. Not quite what she would think nor say, one could say she picked it up from the man himself.

It felt like hours. So many hours. It felt like hours still before she absent-mindedly forced herself up, staring blankly at the white road of snow and fading blues before her. Empty eyes were filled with this panicking want as gloved hands accidently brushed her blastia bracelet.

She had to find him.

It felt like hours. So many hours. It still felt like hours till he stopped his brisk walking. As he paused, he almost turned around, as if expecting to see the pink-haired swordswoman running up to her with this bright smile of her's. No, it was only a vague memory of the past. It always will be, if this continued...

He shook his head tiredly. And the past was simply the past. He had made his choices, and there was no going back to change them. Nothing could bring back those peaceful days, when they were traveling around the world. Nothing could bring back her caring voice, like a song belonging to angelic wonders...

He was alone.

She ran.

Her white dress seemed to blend into the snowy surroundings, yet the golden trims and translucent pink of it would and always give her away. Perhaps it was even her own hair, colored the same shade of cherry pink. But most likely, her emerald eyes were probably the most distinct thing compared to the plain canvas around her. They were the shade of a meadow's tall grasses, and while adding the many things like her flowery clothing, her bright aura and cheerful smiles, one could vaguely picture a painting-

A meadow of flowers during the spring time, having the sun shine high above. It gave you this feeling that calmed you, that would make you smile no matter what was happening. Slowly, going slowly, you would have that aura return as well.

He felt himself surrounded by a mirage though.

The spring scent of flowers would not let him believe she had come. He didn't want her to. He only felt this endless pit of pain instead of a calming, happy feeling that she usually gave to those around her.

Why had she come after him?

The thought never answered himself, yet a strange warmth on his left shoulder did.

The Princess gripped his shoulder while pausing for breath. It felt cold. She didn't feel any warmth. Her eyes locked with the man's obsidian orbs, filled with... tiredness? It... didn't seem natural. Why was he...-? The answer had hit her instantly. It was truth, and what irony it was. Enough to make her laugh with heavy sarcasm, but that was not her nature to do so. But still...

Her hands tightened. "Yuri... Why did you run away?"

She knew that question needed no answer... but she still had to ask.

He turned back, not responding. Silence fell, making them uncomfortable. Reluctantly, she let her gloved hand slip back to her side, yet she continued staring at the long-haired man. She would not force him to tell, even when her status allowed her to. That... That was cruel to do. She had swore to let the people have their freedom, and he was no exception to such a thing. Rather, he was the one with the most freedom allowed.

Her expression softened. "...You don't have to tell me. Don't force yourself."

He still didn't say anything, but if one were to see his face, it would show sorrow. It would show restrained wishes. It would tell that it didn't want this, what had happened, the present they were experiencing now. But like what he forced himself to believe, the past was the past. What happened that time, the actions taken that time... you couldn't undo them. You can't return to change what's happened.

What's happened has happened, as the famous saying goes.

But sometimes... you still wish to change it.

Estelle took one deep breath, her hands anxiously fiddling with the quality-cut cloth of her dress. Sometimes, she could admit defeat. She wasn't as stubborn as Yuri was. She could say it, she could forgive others. That's what he wanted, she understood. But he didn't follow the thought completely, and gave up at the last moment...

But if she just did this... it was only the matter of him forgiving her. He would get what he wanted, but what she wanted... it was only a matter of time and Fate's decision.

"But, I..."

She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry and parched.

"I... I'm..."

Despite the dryness, she daringly took another deep breath, the frigid atmosphere somehow making her mouth feel even more parched. It also made her shiver, the coldness suddenly making ice form in her blood. Her gaze, however, remained fixed, unwavering.

"I'm... I'm sorry."

He flinched. Those words... said with an utmost honesty... it belonged to Estelle. The one he knew and remembered so fondly. The warmth so clearly heard and felt... yes, that was in her words. Estelle only spoke with such a tender voice when she trusted someone, when she sure she could show the fragile, innocent self among the highly-mannered, royalty vision everyone saw her in.

She had always forgiven people. He was not an exception.

It was cold that night. A night still filled with warmth. The lights seemed to dance among the crystalline floor of purest snow, like a festival being held right before their eyes. That night, many things could have happened. From happiness, sorrow, pain... everything and anything could happen. Even the most impossible of things can happen.

Like Heartbreak and Love.

That night, to rekindle and mend the bonds can involve many things. Time has slowly worn them, making them frail enough to snap as they are continuously tugged and pulled as distance grows, both physically and mentally. But as long as one hopes, somewhere, in the future of a land supposedly not meant to survive, it can happen.

That's the way things go, don't they?

* * *

_"But yet..." _

The aged grey hair shone like silver. However, no one was around to look at its beauty and be in awe. Not that she actually wanted it in the first place though. Her hands paused on the paper, fading emeralds looking wearily at the last words written so far. She glanced away from the paper, straining her now stiff neck at a photo frame on the fireplace, hidden by the shadows of night.

Still, the moonlight somehow managed to shine on its glass covers, revealing the faces smiling in the colored picture. First, somewhere in the middle of the picture but more closer to the right-hand side, it revealed a young brunette, around the age of a teenager. She wore odd-looking clothes, the designs and length barely matching with each other. She somewhat looked like a specialist in the field of science, due to the pens in the pockets and goggles she wore.

Next was another brunette, younger looking, which made one think he was a child. He wore rather childish clothing and had a large bag of tools by his side... and _what was that odd hammer sticking out there? _Well, it certainly showed he was a child in mind.

On both the brunettes' right was a woman of strange appearance, having pointed ears and the strangest blue hair, which certainly shouldn't be possible, logically anyways. She wore rather revealing clothing, exposing her chest very, very much - and had made any woman jealous, including herself - and was certainly a woman of great beauty.

On the far left of the frame, there was a rather shabby-looking man with messy black hair, wearing a long, purple coat. He seemed to be making fun of the ones close to him, grinning stupidly at the camera. But apparently, the closest person didn't seem too annoyed. He was a blond man, wearing white armor with blue leather - another odd thing.

Standing closer to the middle of the photo was a blond girl, around the brunette boy's age. She wore clothing akin to a sailor, even if she said she was a pirate. She seemed to be poking fun at everyone, though mostly at a dog next to her. This adult-aged dog was colored white with stripes of dark blue. He had chains around him, also having a leather belt which held a dagger - strange as it could have been. Dogs weren't train to fight, but those who were once a part of the now long-gone and forgotten Imperial Knights do.

Right in the centre of the photo was a pair. The male of the pair had long, dark purple hair and obsidian-colored eyes. He wore mostly dark clothes, but could have been mistaking for a girl, even by name. The female of the pair was vibrant woman with cherry pink hair, having emerald eyes. She wore a pink dress, cut to resemble flower petals at the bottom, with a white coat over it that didn't cover her shoulders and had golden trims. A bronze bracelet was present on her left wrist, having a polished red stone.

She smiled wryly at the picture before looking down at the paper, continuing the story.

_Just because they were polar opposites, it did not mean they could never be together. But just because they were together, that did not mean they couldn't be separated. _

_They_ were _separated._

_As for how long? Inside, on this snowy memory, it had only been a handful of years since the Princess had to take over her cousin's rule over the Capital, due to a strange illness that had tragically taken away his life. Perhaps it was fate that these two met, in a recently new settlement surrounded by snow. They used to be together, traveling with this calm peace that seemed to make you forget that troubles plagued the world._

_But if thought about... It feels like centuries since she had last seen him._

She paused, a flicker of doubt crossing her face as her hand halted with those thoughts. It eventually disappeared, the usual determination of her writing now replaced with this grim look, almost as if she would cry. Her hand hastily wrote the last line, unlike how she usually wrote which was slowly and neatly. In the end, it didn't quite matter how she wrote it; her tears stained the paper and made that very sentence a blur of blue and black ink.

_...And when I checked the date, it truly had been centuries._

* * *

Yes~ I gave Estelle immortality. I mean, being so powerful, I wondered if being a Child of the Full Moon would grant her immortality. And somehow, I added this while I typed it out. Strange.

Review please! And no flames.

~Shiroi


End file.
